


As Breath Loves the Body

by Anonymous



Category: Hylics (Video Game)
Genre: Backstory, Complicated Relationships, Dark, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Informal D/s dynamics, M/M, Making Out, Minor Xeno, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:00:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29093133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Once upon a time, there was a single King of the Moon.It hadn't really worked out.
Relationships: Gibby/Wayne (Hylics)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 3
Collections: Five Figure Fanwork Exchange 2020





	1. New

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Piinutbutter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piinutbutter/gifts).



> I had a total blast writing this for you! I hope it's the kind of thing you wanted.

Once upon a time, they said, there was a single King of the Full and Entire Moon.

That hadn't worked out as well as they had hoped.

* * *

The hands woke him from nothing, thin fingers in soft gloves smoothing out the curves of his head and slipping food into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed piece after piece after piece automatically. The crumbling matter slowly filled him up and fleshed him out; a prickly-hot sensation, like an old familiar feeling he'd forgotten the name of. Not knowing the words hollowed him out again, but only on the inside of his head. He didn't like that hole in his head and he didn't need any more body than he had, and when the hands tried to place more of the food in his mouth, he clenched his teeth against it.

"Ah. It seems the biscuits have done their work," said a deep, dramatic voice. He couldn't see who was - oh, his eyes weren't open; he opened them, and a tall, narrow white head with thin pointy ears sticking out and six round indented eyes was leaning over him. "This one wakes," the head said in the same deep voice, and then it tilted up to look away from him. "How fares the other?"

"Stubborn. Quite stubborn," another voice, thinner and drier, said from his right side. He wanted to sit up and see who was speaking, but his head still felt too empty, too dizzy; what if he sat up too fast and floated away, or rolled off whatever he was laying on? And he didn't know how the voices would react if he moved. "Won't take another bite, and as you can see, the flesh is not fully restored. Much too thin in the body, still. We may have to -"

"Now, now, do not be too hasty. We have worked so hard to bring them to this point. The people grow restless, having had no news for so long, and we must speak to them and soothe their fears; let these two rest for a time as we do so, and then we shall see how they fare."

"Mmm. Perhaps. Perhaps. Come then, Lord Dracula. We'll prepare a fine speech for the crowds below."

The tall head nodded once, slowly, then disappeared in a swirl of shimmering white cape. Something out of his sight squished, and there was the _vwirp-vworp_ of a door opening and closing.

He lay still in the silence, resting, wondering whether he dared try sitting up yet. Maybe he should have eaten more of the biscuit after all, but he really didn't feel hollow anywhere except his head, and he wasn't sure that was a real emptiness, either, only that he didn't like it. And he was curious: what did he look like? Who was the other one the dry voice had been talking about with such disapproval?

Very carefully, he pushed himself upright. When he didn't immediately float off or fall over, he took a long look at his body. He had been laid flat out and naked on a long, wide brown table; he was long and skinny everywhere - his limbs, his torso, his feet, his fingers - which made him wish he hadn't refused those last crumbly bites, and he was a pale silvery-gray color all over, too, like dust. He raised his hands to explore the shape of his head and found long curves sweeping up to points on both his right and his left sides, then sloping back down to meet at a barely rounded top over his eyes. A horned crescent for a head? No wonder it seemed so light.

He turned, again carefully, so he could see the other person he'd been left with.

They had been laid out on the other side of the table the same way he had been; they were long and silver-gray everywhere, too, and even skinnier than he was, except for their head. That was round and swollen, but not completely. The cheeks around a small, tightly clenched mouth were hollow, and the shape wasn't quite right. Not a whole sphere, only most of one, with the curve of one side too shallow. Funny shape for a head, really, though he guessed he didn't have a lot of room to talk. He touched one of his upswept horns again and glanced briefly at the top of the table, where two big empty vats lay half on their side, then back to the round-headed person and their pinched face and closed eyes.

After a little consideration, he wiggled around and lay back down, this time with his head fitting around the imperfect swell of the other's. It didn't match exactly, but he felt more comfortable than before, or less hollow anyway, and he shut his eyes.

Then the other said, in a voice almost the same pitch and timber as he knew his own would be, "What are you doing?"

"I dunno." He let his feet dangle over the side of the table. "It feels nice, though, right? Relaxing, I guess."

"Hmm."

"I can move if you don't like it, though."

"No!" The other's voice cracked a little. "I mean - I don't mind. Do as you wish."

"Well, if you're sure."

"I am."

He could have asked why the other hadn't wanted to eat any more food. He could have asked whether the other had any idea who the people feeding them both had been, or if they both had the same emptiness in their heads, or whether the other knew their names or anything about the vats at the top of the table. He could have been curious; but instead he kicked his feet one last time, enjoying the way they bounced lightly off the side of the table with a soft _thunk-thunk_ , and the two of them lay together in quiet, easy peace, their heads nestled against each other, until sleep stole over them once more.

* * *

"I am Lord Odozeir," said the man with the thin, dry voice, whose head curled in and around itself like horns on each side, "and your name is Wayne."

He rolled the name around in his head a couple of times - _Wayne, huh. Wayne. Wayne_ \- and then nodded. "Yeah, okay."

Lord Odozeir pursed his mouth. "A more appropriate response would be 'Yes, sir.' Or perhaps 'Thank you, sir.' You must carefully consider your position and the way in which you wish to present yourself to others in all of your interactions."

"I don't even know what my position is, though," Wayne pointed out. He'd just been woken up from his nap, helped down from the table, dressed in plain white clothes, guided into a new room, and placed in a stiff, square chair while the other had been hustled off somewhere else by the tall-headed Lord Dracula; what did Lord Odozeir expect him to know right off the bat like that?

"Mmm. No. No, I suppose you would not, even under the best of circumstances. Very well. You know you are on the Moon, yes?"

"Yeah - I mean, yes, sir."

"Good. Good. The process was not completely ineffective, then. These rooms, do they seem familiar to you?"

Wayne considered the rough beige walls and the surprisingly high ceiling. "Not really. I dunno. Maybe if I saw some other ones, I'd recognize them?"

"Mmm. We shall see. You are in the palace of the King of the Moon, after all," and Lord Odozeir looked at him expectantly.

He was going to try rolling that one around too and figure out if it felt right, like his name, but it rattled like a rock inside him instead, hard and jagged and _tearing_ and he couldn't keep it in if he kept thinking those words, _King of the Moon_ , it'd rip itself right out of him and Lord Odozeir would -

He didn't know what Lord Odozeir would do; he only remembered the way Lord Odozeir had talked about the other, had said, _We may have to_ , and the rattling got worse and he couldn't let Lord Odozeir know. And he kept watching Wayne, waiting and waiting and waiting.

Wayned slouched as much as he could in the straight-backed chair, stretched his arms, and cracked his knuckles, no matter how much he wanted to clutch his stomach to keep the panicky rattling inside. "Really? Doesn't look like much of a palace," he said. "Shouldn't there be, I dunno, gold and jewels and fancy stuff all over?" He made himself look around at the bland walls and the bland ceiling again. "This is real plain..."

"Mmm," said Lord Odozeir, revealing neither surprise nor disappointment nor approval. Tough nut, huh. "Nonetheless, this is the King's palace, however humble this small portion of it may seem to you. And what do you know of the King?"

Wayne shrugged, his mouth too dry to answer even if the rattling fear wasn't threatening to bust through his throat. Why did he have to be alone for this? Why couldn't the other one be there with him? Maybe he wouldn't feel so shaky and weird if someone else were there with him. 

"Very well, from the root we shall begin. Once, there was a King of the Full and Entire Moon. But there is a great delicacy to ruling, a balance, and the King - had difficulty in maintaining that balance. He became - unstable. Unpredictable." The pauses in Lord Odozeir's speech seemed to contain vast unspoken deserts, wide mares of silver sand and unknown, unnerving depths. "When he - when it became clear he could no longer reign, it was decided that he should not have a single successor, but two, that they might be able to balance each other and prevent a repeat of such - uncertainty. Thus, Lord Dracula and myself were chosen to create and train these two successors. And you, Wayne, are one of them."

At that, Wayne couldn't stop himself from leaning forward, clasping his hands over his stomach. "And the other guy? He's one too, right? Right?" It only made sense, didn't it? He didn't know why the idea held such comfort, just that it did.

Lord Odozeir tilted his head, his mouth tightening again. "Such is the plan, despite my doubts."

"What's there to doubt about him?" Wayne asked. "We're -" Not the same, really, were they? But it felt true. "- we're both fine, aren't we?"

"That is what Lord Dracula and I are attempting to ascertain. Although Lord Dracula certainly has much higher hopes in regards to young Gibby than I." Lord Odozeir's ringed and pointed fingers twisted in some strange gesture Wayne couldn't interpret.

So the other's name was Gibby; that felt right, too, as much as his own name did, and soothed some of the rattling in his stomach. "Can I see him? Why do we have to do this apart?"

"What a number of questions you have. Perhaps, if you listened attentively and with thought, you might hear answers."

Well, that sounded like a load of junk to Wayne. He guessed Lord Odozeir wouldn't be able to spill much if he kept interrupting, though, so he sat back upright and said meekly, "Yes, sir," which seemed to satisfy the lord's standards.

"An improvement. As I was saying, Lord Dracula and I shall be determining your worthiness as the King's successors and the level of training that you will require to perform your duties adequately. The less of it that's necessary, the better, of course, but we will do as much as we must for the good of the Moon and the Hylemxylem's strength."

Wayne opened his mouth to ask what that jumble of letters could be, then closed it and nodded solemnly, like he totally understood all of the words that had just come out of Odozeir's mouth.

Lord Odozeir apparently accepted the nod as agreement, because he nodded in return and then launched into a whole dizzying barrage of questions that Wayne could barely figure out how to respond to. _What is the significance of the crescent moon? Waning or waxing? The gibbous and the full and the new moon? Do you know of the tides? Do you understand them? What is the nature of flesh? Of will? You don't know; well, do you know about snapping? How many lords of the Moon are there? How many can you name? Any of them? Is there anyone you can name? Do you know why we are on the Moon? Do you know of the Sages? What of television? What do you know of the people on the Earth? Do you remember the afterlife?_ All interspersed with a lot of _Hmm_ 's and _I see_ 's and _Disappointing_ 's, just to make Wayne feel even worse about his fumbling answers.

At last, after a particularly baffling question about the uses of bucks, he couldn't take it anymore and burst out with, "Okay, fine, I get it! I don't know _anything_ , I get it, can I just go now?"

An extra-long "Hmmmmmm" and a piercing look from Lord Odozeir's bulging eyes. "Well, you are still quite fresh, and I suppose it's natural for you to feel overwhelmed. Perhaps that's enough for one day. Come with me. I will show you the quarters you will be occupying."

Lord Odozeir led him through various twisting hallways that got fancier and wider the higher up they went, until they reached a small room containing a pair of enormous iron doors held shut by a silver disk. The lord placed one of his hands on the disk and tapped his fingers against it, and the doors swung outward to reveal a giant, round dimly lit chamber with an arched ceiling. The floor was covered in rugs fancifully patterned with designs Wayne couldn't identify; the walls were lined with abstract statuary and sculptures of people he didn't recognize and a single giant oval mirror between a pair of round-headed statues, and there were two low, plain single beds, one on each side of the room, that looked so starkly out of place in their simplicity they almost made Wayne laugh.

"You may wait here and rest, if you wish," Lord Odozeir said. "If you require food or drink, or something to amuse yourself with, a servant may be summoned with a - no, that won't work." His mouth pursed again. "I shall be outside in the guardroom. Come speak to me if you need anything, and I shall see that it is fetched for you."

"Um - okay." No, wait, that wasn't enough. Not that he could really imagine asking Lord Odozeir to get him, what, toys and a hot dog or something? Way too embarrassing! But he guessed it was nice of the lord to offer. "Thank you, sir."

"Hmm," said Lord Odozeir yet again, but he sounded pleased, that time. "Rest well, young Wayne." He pushed Wayne into the chamber with surprising gentleness, and the doors swung ponderously shut again with a dull clang.

Wayne poked around the room for a bit, looking for anything interesting or that might jog the memories Lord Odozeir so clearly wanted him to have, but all he found was that some of the statues' heads came off and he couldn't get them back on right. Oops. Those statues did turn out to be hollow, though, and he dug out of them a few bits of paper that were probably the bucks Lord Odozeir had talked about and an empty box that, by the label, had once held juice. He tried kicking the box around to see what it was like, and also gave rolling around on the rugs a spin; that was surprisingly fun, but it made him dizzy after a while. He gave it up and just lay on one of the beds, watching the ceiling until it calmed down and stopped revolving.

Then he was just bored. And alone.

* * *

At some point, he must have fallen asleep for lack of anything better to do, because the grinding noise of the doors opening startled him upright. He rubbed sand out of his eyes, blinking, and saw the other - no, Gibby, that was his name - silhouetted in the light from the guardroom, the shadow of the tall-headed Lord Dracula looming at his side.

Wayne jumped out of the bed and ran to him, eager to tell him all about Lord Odozeir's interrogation and glad to see someone he wasn't afraid to touch, but Gibby drew back as he got close, his face drawn shut. Wayne came to an uncertain stop and said, "Uh, Gibby? Are you okay? I was worried..."

"I fear that our conversation may have been rather tiring," Lord Dracula said, though he sounded quite cheerful about it. "Productive and quite interesting, to be sure, but tiring. May I trust that yours also went well?"

"I dunno," Wayne admitted, then belatedly remembered to correct himself to, "I mean, I don't know, sir."

"Already very concerned with your manners, I see - Lord Odozeir's influence, I would imagine." Lord Dracula gave Wayne a firm, encouraging pat on the shoulder. "There's time enough to worry over etiquette in your future, Wayne. For now, I must consult with Lord Odozeir and the rest of the Council of Lords. The two of you should relax while you can! It may be a long while before you have this much time to yourselves again, I'm afraid, and I'm sure you have much to talk about with each other."

Still unsure, Wayne decided to stick to a nod.

Lord Dracula was satisfied with that and gave Wayne another pat on the shoulder, then gently pushed Gibby forward into the chamber. "Now, then, be at ease," he said, and he stepped out and closed the doors once more, leaving them in half-darkness.

Wayne started to ask Gibby what Lord Dracula had talked to him about for so long, but Gibby immediately shoved his hand in Wayne's face and hissed, "Ssh!" He turned away and leaned his big head against the doors, frowning. Even more confused, Wayne tried to do the same, but it wasn't a comfortable way to lean. If Gibby was trying to listen to anything Lord Dracula and Lord Odozeir were talking about, he had way better ears than Wayne, because Wayne couldn't hear a thing. The doors had to be too thick, or maybe the lords weren't talking out there at all and had gone somewhere else.

After a minute or so, Gibby had to have realized that, too. He straightened up with an even bigger frown. "Concerning," he muttered to himself. "I didn't think he - maybe that's not why, but still -"

"Gibby - hey, Gibby! What's wrong? Is everything okay?" Wayne started to reach for Gibby's hand, but remembered Gibby drawing back and stopped himself. "Was Lord Dracula - mean, or something?" Lord Dracula seemed like he'd be a lot easier to please than Lord Odozeir, but it wasn't like Wayne could know for sure.

"What?" Gibby looked at Wayne, baffled, and then his expression loosened up. "No - no, he wasn't mean. It was just tiring, as he said. What of you and Lord Odozeir? What did you talk about?"

"Ugh, don't ask," Wayne said. "A whole bunch of stuff I totally didn't understand, mostly. And some stuff about -" His stomach dropped just thinking of the panic he'd felt. He had wanted to tell Gibby to see if anything like it had happened with him, too, but now... Maybe it was better not to think or talk about it at all. Especially if Gibby was already tired. "- stuff about the Moon. Hey, even if everything's weird, at least we get to live on the Moon, right? That's cool. And in a palace, too."

"Right," Gibby said dryly. "It's hard to get cooler than a palace on the Moon." He glanced around the chamber. "Although our specific accommodations - good grief, what are those beds? Hardly fitting for future rulers."

"Ah, don't be so stuck-up. They're not so bad! At least they're comfortable. And they're probably not that heavy, so..."

"So?"

"Well, so we can do this!" Wayne ran to the bed he'd been napping on and dragged it to the middle of the room, then grabbed the other one, did the same so they were right next to each other, and beamed at Gibby. "There! Now it's one big bed - that's more fitting, right? Or we could move it around so it's long instead of wide, or however we want them."

Gibby stared at him; then his small mouth widened in a smile. "You're pretty strange, Wayne. You know that if we put them together like that, we have to share them, don't you?"

"Uh - yeah? Is that weird? You don't want to? You said you were tired, I just thought - I can always move them back the way they -"

"No, it's fine. Really." Gibby left the doors and lay down on the left bed, stretching out, and Wayne hopped on next to him. Even pushed together, the beds weren't wide enough for them to rest their heads against each other like before. Wayne considered it for a second, then wiggled closer to Gibby and took his hand. For some reason, that made Gibby laugh, but it didn't sound like a happy laugh; it was short and bitter and choked.

"Sorry," Wayne said. "Uh, is this weird, too?"

"A little." Gibby's fingers twined with his. "But I don't mind. Just don't do this around the lords, all right?"

"Why not?"

A little silence before Gibby said, "They might - misinterpret it. Or think it's a sign of weakness, when they want us to be independent. Anyway, it's none of their business. It can be something for only the two of us to know."

Something for just the two of them... That sounded kind of nice. "Okay."

"You'll have to move the beds back when they return, too."

"They're not that heavy, you could help me with them."

"As a future ruler of the Moon, I am clearly above the moving of furniture."

"Wow, rude. I'm one, too, you know. And you're the one who wants to keep it secret, you should help out." He squeezed Gibby's hand so he'd know Wayne was just joking and got another laugh out of Gibby, one that didn't sound so rough.

"Fine," Gibby said, "we'll get a servant to take care of it."

"Wait, wait, we have servants?"

"You really didn't understand much of what Lord Odozeir talked about, did you..."

" _So_ rude. See if I ever hold your hand again, if that's how you're going to be about it."

It wasn't really that funny, but they both laughed anyway.


	2. Waxing

The lessons started as soon as the Council of Lords had finished debating whatever it was they didn't agree on. Lord Odozeir and Lord Dracula were still in charge; one of the palace servants came for Wayne and Gibby and ushered them to a small room filled with strange tables and chairs, plus a giant screen set into one wall, in front of which the lords were waiting for them.

Once Gibby and Wayne had picked seats - Wayne conscientiously chose one not too close to Gibby's, even though he'd rather they sit next to each other - Lord Odozeir cleared his throat. "Although there is some difference in your levels of understanding," he said, "it has been decided that you shall be taught together. This way, there can be no question of bias when it comes to the knowledge you're both given."

Wayne slouched in his chair, figuring it would be his fault if Gibby got bored since he'd been the one to bomb Lord Odozeir's questioning so hard. Although Gibby never had gotten around to saying what he and Lord Dracula actually had talked about, so maybe it hadn't been that much more advanced...

"We shall thus begin with a simple review of the worlds that will fall under your rule." Lord Odozeir made a small gesture at the screen in the wall, and it flickered to staticky life. "This - is the Earth."

Several images wavered in and out of focus: long stretches of rippling beige dunes, white bugs skittering over dull brown stones, steely gray waves topped with froth crashing on a rocky beach, lumpy green plants sprouting at random from sandy ground, people with all kinds of heads wandering through slumped, melted-looking buildings.

"The Earth has long been a source of life and energy," Lord Odozeir continued, "and its inhabitants cling to it most tenaciously despite the difficulties they encounter, scrabbling for life among the bones of their greater ancestors. And now, the Moon..."

Another gesture, and the parade of images changed and became less staticky. Now there were calm, clear blue pools and neatly walled-off gardens blooming in ordered rows and several tall white spires Wayne could recognize as some of the palace's many towers, piercing a starry black sky as they loomed over small, square houses.

"The Moon once was cold and barren, inhospitable to all forms of life," Lord Odozeir said. "But the Sages and many other wise and powerful people came here from the Earth long ago, bringing energy and materials, and they transformed this place into a haven of learning, a sanctuary for the most worthy and skilled. A paradise far surpassing the paltry ruins of Earth."

"But not without cost," Lord Dracula added darkly. "The will required to maintain our lands is far beyond what we ourselves can supply, beyond what the Sages ever dreamed necessary, and the Hylemxylem -"

"- is a subject for a more distant day," said Lord Odozeir as Wayne looked back and forth between them, confused. "As was agreed by the Lords. The finer details of our relations with the Earth will be made clear in time."

"And fairly, I trust."

"Of course. Of course. Only the most impartial of lessons for our young kings."

Lord Dracula's narrow brows furrowed, but he didn't protest as Lord Odozeir resumed his lecturing. Which was too bad, because at least it might have helped keep Wayne's attention. Lord Odozeir just kept droning on and on and _on_ about the history of Earth and the Moon, about names Wayne didn't recognize and dates he'd never heard of and Sages with weird powers he didn't understand. He propped his head up on his hands and did his best to focus, but he couldn't stop his gaze from wandering: first to the screen, which remained frozen on a picture of the palace, and then to Gibby. Gibby was sitting upright with his hands folded on the table in front of him, studiously watching Lord Odozeir talk like it was fascinating, but his mouth was tight again. Maybe he was still hungry? He hadn't eaten much of the breakfast that the servants had brought for them. Or maybe he was zoning out, too, and just better at faking it...

"- first was a Queen of the Waxing Quarter Moon," Lord Odozeir was saying, "both mighty and blessed with computers, and it was she who - yes, Wayne?"

Wayne had raised his hand. "So, uh - this is really interesting and stuff, but is there going to be a test or something on it?"

"A - test?"

"Yeah, it's just, if there's going to be a test, maybe we should have something we can take notes with? It's going to be hard to remember everything you're talking about 'cause there's so much..."

Gibby snorted with laughter, but stifled it at a glance from Lord Dracula.

"A test," Lord Odozeir repeated. "No. This is not an academy of old, young Wayne. The test of what you learn will come when you begin to rule; you must be the one to decide what is useful to you and what isn't of the knowledge we impart."

"... oh." That sounded even worse than a test. He should definitely be taking notes. "Got it."

"Then, to continue -"

"I had a few questions, too, if you don't mind," Gibby said.

"Oh?" Lord Odozeir made a weary gesture. "Ask, then."

"You mentioned the powers of the Sage of Computers, but not in much detail. Do those powers also extend to the manipulation of television, radios, or other communication?"

"Now, that is an excellent question, young Gibby," Lord Odozeir said, perking up. "To a certain extent, yes, but the limitations -" He launched into a whole new lecture, punctuated by further questions from Gibby, as Wayne sunk lower in his chair. He'd barely understood the first version; this stuff was way over his head. How come Gibby was picking it up so quickly? Even after Lord Dracula steered them both back to the original lesson, Wayne couldn't figure out half of it. And this was supposed to be a basic lesson? He was in trouble...

At last Lord Odozeir got through the whole spiel - or just got tired of talking - and dismissed them to go eat lunch and have the afternoon to relax before, presumably, more lessons. Wayne slouched along beside Gibby as they followed yet another servant back to their room, not noticing that Gibby's steps were slowing down until they both came to a stop with the servant hovering worriedly a few feet ahead. "Uh - what's up?"

"Are you angry with me?" Gibby asked.

"What would I be mad at you for?"

Gibby shrugged. "For having better questions for Lord Odozeir? How should I know what you're thinking?"

"Oh! Nah, it's cool," Wayne said, half-surprising himself that he meant it but relieved that he did. He didn't want to lie to Gibby. "It wouldn't be any good if we were both great at the same stuff, you know? That's the point of having the two of us. You can rock the history parts, and there's gotta be something else I'll be way better at than you, so we'll balance out."

"Ah. Of course, you're right." Gibby started walking again. "It's good that you're so - relaxed about it."

"See? There's already something I'm better at! Being more relaxed than you."

"I wouldn't consider that a skill, exactly..."

"Whatever. Race you to lunch! Loser's gotta take notes for both of us next time!" Wayne took off down the hall, happily bounding past the servant and reveling in the excuse to stretch his legs.

"Wait! Wait up, I didn't agree to that! _Wayne_ -!"

* * *

The next day, instead of freedom, the afternoon held a new kind of lesson. Yet another servant - Wayne was never going to be able to keep them all straight, especially when they all looked so similar - took them to a different room, one that had no chairs or other furniture but did hold a neat stack of weapons and a small pile of oddly shaped lumps of motionless clay. There were also guards in flat plates of armor and round helmets standing at attention alongside one wall, and although Lord Odozeir was there with them, Lord Dracula was the one who stepped up to the front of the room and took charge.

"In addition to your more academic lessons," Lord Dracula said, "it has been agreed that you must learn the ways of snapping and gestures. Although it is to be hoped you won't need to know these skills for practical reasons, they are vital for many of your subjects and a key part of our world, so it's important that you understand how they work and gain some skill in them."

Wayne had perked up at "snapping." Some of the images and videos on the screens yesterday had shown people using gestures or snapping each other, and it had looked really cool. And he'd get to learn how to do it himself? Awesome! Way better than sitting around listening to lectures, even if he didn't end up being any good at it. Gibby didn't look as enthusiastic, but that might just be how Gibby was. He didn't get excited about food, either, and food was _amazing_.

"To begin, one must choose a weapon," Lord Dracula said. "These are many and varied, but I've brought examples of several of the more common types to demonstrate." He pulled one from the stack - a giant fork with long, gracefully curved tines - and held it in his left hand so that half the handle rested along the inside of his arm and the base of the tines sat against his palm. "A simple battle fork, elegant and effective. Other weapons may have certain effects - dizzying your opponent, cracking their shell to spill their flesh - but we shall concentrate on the basic principle of the snap for now."

He glanced at the guards, and one hurried forward to set up a clay lump from the heap before scurrying back to the wall. Lord Dracula took a new stance with his right foot forward and the fork extended, and then he raised his right hand, brought two fingers together, and snapped them.

The lump rocked back, its featureless surface marred by four deep gashes.

Wayne's jaw dropped.

Lord Dracula replaced the fork with the other weapons and took a bow. "As you see, one does not attack directly with the weapon, although long ago that was the case. In these days, merely having the weapon on your person suffices; rather than strike with it, you must learn to embrace and strengthen its qualities with your own flesh so that your snap will carry its power."

"Wow," Wayne said reverently. So that was snapping? He couldn't _wait_ to start practicing.

Gibby looked much less impressed. Lord Odozeir didn't seem too thrilled, either; he held up his hand when Wayne reached for the fork and said, "Mere brutality. A relic of the past slavishly bound to the body. Beyond the crudity of weapons, you must also learn the art of gestures. Your will is what gives these power, so you must make sure to keep it strong rather than weigh yourself down with flesh and distractions."

Wayne pulled his hand back glumly as a guard set another lump of clay in front of Lord Odozeir. The lord was still for a moment, contemplating, before his hands began to move in a complex pattern. The air itself took hazy shape around his fingers, coiling and twisting; then the shapes exploded into emptiness, and dark fire and smoke rose from the clay dummy.

The flames vanished with another gesture. Wayne was about to clap when Lord Odozeir beckoned one of the guards to step away from the wall. "Gestures have many uses beyond battle, as well," he said. "In crafting, in healing, in protection... Behold." Again his hands swirled through the air, forming a new set of shapes. Wayne leaned forward as the shapes gathered mass and flew at the guard - only to wrap around them like a thick, soft blanket. "Foam armor. A temporary enhancement of the flesh and its strength for use in various tasks."

It wasn't quite as cool as the flames or Lord Dracula's snap, but Wayne still said, "Neat!" Gibby looked a lot more interested in it than he had in the snapping, too; his fingers were twitching like he was trying to imitate the same movements.

Lord Odozeir tilted his head at Gibby and said, "Eager to learn already? Mere snapping can wait for another day, then. You should both be well-rested and full of will, so we shall begin with two simple gestures. Guards!"

A couple of the guards left the room and came back in reverently wheeling two small TVs on carts. Lord Odozeir showed Wayne and Gibby how to operate the controls to access the gestural knowledge within, but neither of the TVs had any really cool gestures like the ones the lord had shown off; one was just a tiny spark of lightning, and the other was something like the foam armor but even simpler, with less effect. Wayne couldn't keep his disappointment off his face entirely and got a sour look from Lord Odozeir as the guards set up a fresh pair of the clay dummies.

"These may be simple," Lord Odozeir said, still glaring at Wayne, "but they are perfectly acceptable gestures, and making use of them for practice shouldn't drain your will too strongly. If the gesture fails, no will shall be wasted. If you succeed in invoking them successfully often enough, you may feel yourself becoming parched; stop then, and refreshment will be provided before you dry yourself out. Now, show me whether you've properly understood the gestures."

The first few tries, nothing happened when Gibby and Wayne tried to use the gestures. Frustration bubbled up in Wayne, tempting him to just kick the stupid dummy and go for the snapping instead, but he glanced over at Gibby's intent face as he went through the motions yet again and sighed. If Gibby wasn't giving up, neither would he! He breathed in deeply, brought his hands up, made himself go slowly and carefully through each twist of the gesture, focusing only on the result he needed...

Lightning arced from his fingers to the dummy, and it shivered with static just as a thin layer of foam settled over Gibby's dummy.

"Well done!" Lord Dracula said, and Wayne beamed back at him.

Lord Odozeir only nodded. "Continue, if you please. One success is not a triumph. When you can consistently draw upon your will, you'll have less difficulty in mastering new gestures."

"Oh, all right," Wayne said, sighing. He'd rather have gone straight to learning more gestures, but Lord Odozeir probably had a point. He was the teacher, after all.

They kept invoking the gestures, over and over and over. A couple of times, one or both of them would mess up and the gesture would fizzle out, but after figuring out how to focus right, it seemed pretty simple to Wayne. Just doing the same thing again and again was so dull... He kept sneaking glances at Gibby, who looked perfectly happy to keep practicing on the poor smothered dummy. Maybe it was time to liven things up.

Right as Gibby added another perfect layer of foam, Wayne zapped him in the arm.

Gibby jumped halfway to the ceiling. "Ow! What was -" He turned his head to find Wayne laughing and scowled. "How dare you treat me like that!" But the scowl immediately cracked into a devilish grin, and a second later, a painful tingle hit Wayne's ankle.

That was pretty much the end of regular practice. They tore around the room, zapping and slapping foam on each other and laughing. Lord Odozeir tried to stop them, shouting stuff about "improper use" and "poor reflection," but Wayne and Gibby both ignored him, and he stomped off in a huff to talk to the guards while they chased each other.

At last they collapsed in a pile on the floor, smoking in places from repeated bolts and smothered in others with layers and layers of foam and still laughing through cracked, dry throats. "You look ridiculous," Gibby said, wiping a chunk of foam off one of Wayne's horns.

"So do you." Half of Gibby's face was sooty, and his legs were so bulked up with foam he could barely move them; Wayne tried to pull some of it off, but it was caked on a little too well. "That was way better than just messing around with lumpy dummies, though!"

Before Gibby could agree, which obviously he would, Lord Dracula swooped in to stand them both upright and sweep away the worst of the mess with a complicated gesture. "This was an excellent first lesson," he said. "You both show great talent at gestures, and I look forward to teaching you more of the art of combat. But you must be cautious as well. If your flesh or will are too drained, you'll end up in the afterlife. And though this is a natural process that most return from - you are both still new. There are risks it is better for you not to take until you're more experienced."

"Oh." That was disappointing. Wayne was ready to get right back to it - well, maybe after he had something to drink, first. And the "afterlife"? That hadn't been mentioned in their lessons so far, had it? He really needed to pay better attention... It might scary, but it might also be cool to explore, and if you could come back from it, it couldn't be too bad, right?

Gibby said, "Of course. We understand," though, so Wayne figured he should agree and nodded solemnly. Too much trouble, and they might not be able to get away with having any more fun when they were learning.

Lord Odozeir had the guards bring them two tall glasses filled with dark, tangy-sweet juice. Then he sent them back to their room with a curt, "That will be all for this day. Behave yourselves."

Even having juice to drink couldn't completely renew Wayne's energy, and he was happy enough to collapse on the beds with Gibby once they'd pushed them back together. Proper baths to restore themselves could wait. He figured Gibby would already be falling asleep after all the running around and gesturing; he was about to let his own eyes shut when Gibby said, "That lightning gesture - as small as it is, it might still be useful."

"Huh, really?"

"It has enough power to hurt. With the right target, or if you cast multiple times, it might be able to start a fire if you needed one. Or start a machine, if the machine only needed a little spark."

"Yeah - yeah, that'd be pretty neat! And you know, the foam stuff - the kind that Lord Odozeir did is probably better most of the time, but it looks like it'd slow you down, too, it's so thick. So the one we know is probably better if you need to move fast. Like, if you're running through somewhere dangerous."

"Hmm. That's true."

"So, I guess that's something we're both pretty good at," Wayne said sleepily. "Gestures, and doing cool stuff with them..." Yeah - more lessons like that one, and maybe becoming a ruler of the Moon wouldn't turn out to be too bad.

"As long as you study them properly, too," Gibby said, "and don't just - Wayne? Are you asleep already?"

"Hnghf... no..."

"Oh, whatever. I'll wake you for dinner."

"'nks..."

* * *

The lessons continued every day for the next few weeks. Wayne guessed it was good that they were learning so much, but so many of the lessons were lecturing or television instead of getting to do stuff, and they didn't have as many fun ones where they could practice snapping or perform gestures for real. Gibby always paid such good attention in the boring talky ones that it only made Wayne feel worse, especially with how much Lord Odozeir would get caught up in explaining the fine points of something when Wayne didn't even understand the big picture yet.

Sometimes Lord Odozeir or Dracula would escort them to sit in on meetings with other lords of the Moon, which was way more dull than he'd anticipated. The other lords looked like an interesting bunch, with a huge variety of heads and hands, but they argued all the time over tiny, boring points and never got anything done and didn't listen to Wayne or Gibby at all, even when they made a really good suggestion for whatever problem the lords were arguing about. (Wayne thought their suggestions were good, anyway, or at least Gibby's sounded pretty good. He couldn't figure out why the lords didn't seem to agree.)

One day, when Gibby was studying a staticky old video in their room between lessons, Wayne got bored enough of sitting around to say, "Hey, let's go do something else."

"I'm busy."

"You've already watched that like a hundred times, I know you have. Come on! Let's explore. There's so much of the palace we haven't seen yet."

"I'm sure there will be time for that later. I need to understand how the Quarter Moon queendoms were able to fuse -"

"There's time for that later, too! But we have free time to explore right _now_ , let's go."

"Oh, very well, if it will stop you bothering me the next time I have to study."

No servants or guards were waiting outside to stop them - probably no one would have stopped them, anyway, but Wayne was never sure - and they set off to explore.

They wandered through hallways that branched and twisted like live things burrowing through the palace; they passed all kinds of curious chambers, small and large and in-between, that bustled with activities Wayne didn't recognize. Most of the halls were empty and the people in the chambers too busy to notice them, but some chambers had guards outside or people going back and forth, and Wayne and Gibby would hide from them in corners or behind pillars or find ways to sneak past. They didn't need to; it just seemed more fun that way, like they were getting away with something they shouldn't be doing.

One of the hallways opened up into an enormously long room with a high arched ceiling and walls lined with pillars even thicker and taller than the ones in the rest of the palace. Fancier, too; the bases of the pillars had been carved into pretty blobby shapes, the material was swirled with gold and silver, and the tops were capped off with more carving. Wayne craned his neck to get a better look at the top parts and spotted a gap between the actual top and the ceiling.

Hmm.

"Whatever you're thinking, you probably shouldn't," Gibby said.

"Ah, you don't even know what it is!"

"That doesn't matter."

"But I bet there's a really cool view from up there..."

"Now I'm sure you shouldn't."

"Whatever, you just never want to have fun." Wayne grabbed hold of a blobby carving on the closest pillar and hauled himself up.

The base was easy enough to climb, with all the carving giving Wayne lots of hand- and footholds. The pillar itself daunted him briefly, but after sidling around it a couple of times while Gibby hissed at him to get down from there, he tried wrapping his arms around it and shimmying up. The pillar's surface wasn't too polished, so he could get a good grip on it, and that seemed to work pretty well. He gradually got higher and higher, ignoring the scrapes from the rough stone and the ache in his flesh, until his head bumped against something hard and pointy. The top! He'd made it! Now, to get around the carvings...

Lucky for him, the ones at the top weren't as big as the base carvings, and he could reach over them to grab the edge and pull himself the rest of the way up. He lay flat on his stomach for a minute, getting his breath back and stretching out some of the aches, before he sat up with his legs dangling over the side and took in the view.

Okay, so the view was mostly just the room, but still. It looked different from so high up; the floor tiles formed patterns he'd never noticed walking on them, and the vaulted ceiling had also been sculpted like the pillars, with little faces concealed among abstract patterns. Some of the faces had funny round eyes, or long strands of flesh coming out of their heads to swirl into the abstractions, or long noses or surprised wide mouths; none of them looked the same as any other. He leaned over a little farther and waved down at a half-sized Gibby. "Hey! You gotta come up here, too, it's amazing!"

"No! You need to get down before you fall off like the idiot you are!"

"There's all kinds of stuff you can see that you can't from down there!" That ought to tempt Gibby. He loved pointing out new things, and indeed, Wayne could just make out that he was crossing and uncrossing his arms like he was torn between yelling at Wayne and giving the climb a try. Wayne called, "There's patterns in the ceiling, and weird faces - I bet you could figure out if they mean anything!"

"That's not - oh, fine!"

Unfortunately, Gibby didn't climb far. He managed to get over the base, but more slowly than Wayne had done, and then he had trouble holding on to the pillar tightly enough to make any progress. He never seemed to eat as much as Wayne at meals; Wayne had figured it wasn't his business to worry about it, but maybe it weakened Gibby's flesh somehow? He'd definitely have to make sure Gibby ate more next time. But first... "You can do it!" he shouted down. "It's just like hugging, but - more? And you go up!"

"Really? That's your advice?" Gibby yelled back. "Be quiet and let me do this!" He crawled another couple of inches up the pillar and then had to stop again, panting heavily.

Well, that wasn't good. Wayne swung back over the edge and started to shimmy part of the way back down so he could help Gibby finish the climb.

"What are you - just stay up there! I don't need to climb up myself, I'll find the blueprints for this hall or something."

"No, no, I know you can do it! You're good at everything else, so I'm sure you can. Maybe if you tried -"

"Shut up! You're not helping!"

They both froze in silence at the echo of approaching footsteps. Some half-grown guards - they still looked like larvae, with extra legs and bits of shell on their backs and no armor - entered the giant room, talking loudly with each other. Maybe if he and Gibby stayed still, the guards wouldn't notice them... Then Gibby slipped down and barely caught himself before hitting the base, and the whole group turned to stare.

The tallest of them snickered, and that set the whole group off in gales of laughter. "Pathetic!" one said. "He can't even get up one measly pillar. Not much of a king!"

"So weak. That's the lords' big hope for the future?" said a second one.

A third one shuddered and said, "Ugh, imagine having to keep that scrawny thing safe! We'd have to protect him from himself!"

Gibby's fingers clenched against the stone and his mouth contracted into invisibility, but nothing escaped except a flush of gold in his gaunt cheeks. Wayne was pretty mad, too. What did the stupid guards know? So what if Gibby wasn't good at climbing? It might be fun, but it wasn't important like the things they actually studied, and Gibby worked really hard at that. "Hey, back off!" he yelled at them. "What are you being such jerks for, anyway? Do you want to get in trouble? We'll tell Lord Odozeir and Lord Dracula, and you'll never get to be real guards!"

Somehow, the guard larvae didn't seem to be intimidated at all. A couple of them laughed harder, and one jeered, "Oooooh, scary threats from the big crescent-head!"

Another larvae said, "Don't you mean meat-head? I heard he just likes fighting and sucks at everything else he's supposed to learn. Some king he'd be!"

"Yeah, you'd better be nice to us, meat-head," the first larvae who'd spoken said. "If you can't cut it, the lords will probably just turn you into another guard. Then you'll be sorry you didn't respect us!"

Oh, no way was Wayne going to put up with that. He scooted further down the pillar so he could leap off and show those stupid not-even-guards yet just who they were messing with, but Gibby grabbed his ankle and whispered furiously, "Leave it!"

Wayne stopped. Gibby looked down at the guard larvae and said, in a cold and imperious voice Wayne had never heard from him before, "The traditional punishment for insulting the heirs of the Moon has been to feed the accused to the Hylemxylem. However, if the insult were to come from our very own guards, those who should be loyal beyond reason - Lord Odozeir has always praised my creativity. I'm sure I could come up with something more than fitting."

The tallest larvae flinched, and when one of the others opened their mouth, she waved one of her extra limbs at them. "Sorry, Lord Gibby," she said. "Just having a bit of fun. Of course we didn't mean - we'll be on our way now. Sorry."

"But -"

"On our way! Hup to it, we've got training to do!" She herded the rest of the larvae out of the room, glancing back with one eye at Gibby and Wayne the whole time.

Wayne took a couple of deep breaths to calm down so he didn't go chasing after them, then reached out to Gibby. "Thanks, man - that was a cool move. Let's get up to the top so you can -"

Gibby slapped his hand away and slid down to the base of the pillar, climbed off, and hid in the cramped space between the pillar and the wall of the room.

Okay, that was confusing. Wayne scrambled down the pillar and squeezed back behind it so he could sit next to Gibby, but Gibby turned to put his back to Wayne. Whatever. Wayne set his back against Gibby's and said, "I mean, if you really don't want to - it's not that great a view, I guess. It's just the floor, really. And the ceiling. What's so great about a ceiling?" Even if the little faces peeking out between the patterns still stuck in his mind. What were those about? Just some fun for the people who'd built the room, or...?

Gibby inched further away and didn't answer him.

Wayne tried another angle. "Those grubs were total butts, huh? Talking so big when they're not even real guards yet. All that stupid stuff they said, it doesn't matter."

Gibby gave him a contemptuous look over his shoulder. "Of course it doesn't. They're barely more than servants, and I'll rule the Moon."

"Yeah, we will," Wayne said, still trying to comfort him. "So if they don't matter so much, don't let them get to you, okay?"

"Enough! Will you leave me alone already?"

Wayne started back from his attempt to move closer to Gibby. What was so wrong? If Gibby wasn't mad about the guard-larvae or not getting to the top of the pillar, why was he hiding and snapping at Wayne? The sharpness of it burned in Wayne worse than all the scrapes from climbing. Maybe he ought to do what Gibby said and leave him alone - but that didn't feel right, either. More like adding to the cruelty. He scooted closer to Gibby without touching him, pulled his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them to sit quietly, waiting for Gibby to make the next move.

Gibby stayed silent. Eventually, Wayne decided to try one more possibility, just in case the third time would be the charm. "You know, about the climbing... maybe if you ate more, you'd have more flesh and it would be easier?"

"Oh, shut up about food," Gibby said, but he didn't sound as mad as he had before, and he leaned back just a little so their backs were touching. "Too much flesh is a prison that weighs you down and prevents the full realization of your will."

"Did Lord Odozeir tell you that? Because I think he has plenty of flesh _and_ he always has lots of will, so I'm pretty sure you can have both..."

"You don't understand anything," Gibby said, with weary patience. "You really need to pay more attention in classes."

"I'm trying, I'm trying! But they're so complicated, and sometimes things don't make any sense - like, no one ever can ever talk about what the Hylemxylem does without words a million letters long."

"That's what studying is for."

"Ugh, but it's so boring. There should be some way to make it exciting! Like, you snap at a screen and it tells you something different each time, or -"

"Maybe the larvae were right about you being a meat-head," Gibby said, bumping Wayne's shoulder. "Let's go back to the room - and this time, I'll help you study. Your knowledge of the Queendoms is what's really pathetic."

They went back to their room in way better moods and picked up the studying where Gibby had left off, backtracking part of the way for Wayne to catch up. Wayne tried to concentrate as hard as he could, which was easier with Gibby doing the explaining, but his attention wandered anyway as the afternoon wore on. To the mysterious faces, gazing down at the oblivious passing through; to dinner, which couldn't come soon enough; to the satisfying ache from the climb; and, though he didn't really want to think about them any more than necessary, to the guard larvae and their mockery.

He'd have to keep an eye out for guys like those for sure. For himself, and for Gibby.


	3. Eclipse

As the weeks passed in a haze of endless lessons, the two of them began to change. Gibby stayed as skinny as ever, but he kept getting taller and taller even without the massive amounts of food Wayne devoured. Wayne couldn't match his height even when he started getting his own growth spurt, but he was happy enough with the solidity of his arms and legs. It made snapping in lessons so much more effective; no matter what weapon Lord Dracula let him pick, he could take apart any dummy he practiced on. Sometimes he could even beat the guards who'd started training him in duels.

Their silver-white skin was taking on colors, too. Gibby's head had a golden-orange tint, and Wayne was turning a lemony sort of yellow all over, which saddened him a little. Being silver had been kind of cool, and it fit with the whole ruler of the Moon thing.

Gibby had also started growing hair in a neat little green stripe on his head, and Wayne couldn't get enough of it. He kept checking the top of his own head to see if any was growing yet, but so far, nothing had. Gibby complained about it every time, but he still put up with Wayne touching the soft green fuzz at least once a day.

Lord Odozeir and Lord Dracula were both pleased about the changes. "These are all signs of your maturity," Lord Dracula said after the first gesture lesson Gibby had shown up to with his fluffy new hair. "Your growing strength, will, experience - soon you'll be ready to take up a portion of your real responsibilities instead of only learning from your teachers. To become true kings of the Moon, at least in part."

"Indeed, and the sooner, the better," said Lord Odozeir, but he didn't elaborate on why he thought it was so important that Gibby and Wayne start ruling as soon as possible.

Wayne should have been happy to hear it, but little spikes of uneasiness prickled along the back of his head. Getting ready to rule the Moon - it was what he and Gibby were made for, but his stomach was threatening to rattle around like the first time Lord Odozeir had interrogated him, and he didn't understand why. Was he afraid that he would be bad at it? That didn't seem right. He still struggled to study and understand some of the history and theories they'd been taught, but Lord Dracula praised him whenever he got something right and made sure he understood everything on at least some level. And Gibby had that area covered pretty well anyway, so as long as they worked together and Wayne handled all the snapping that Gibby wasn't as good at, everything should be all right.

There was just something about other people calling him a ruler of the Moon that woke the horrible rattling up.

"Now, come with me, Gibby. I wish to discuss some points of our morning's lesson on energy gathering and distribution in finer detail," Lord Odozeir said. He had been doing that every few days lately, even though it went against the councils' guidelines to always keep them together.

Lord Dracula had let it slide before, but this time, he said, "Lord Odozeir, this has gone on a bit too long. You know we are not meant to teach them apart."

"Yes, yes, of course. These are not truly separate lessons, however. I merely use this extra time to enhance and deepen Gibby's knowledge of whatever we have already studied, since he is such a bright and eager pupil."

"I see." Lord Dracula leaned on the sword-cane he usually carried around, looking skeptical. "Well, I can hardly argue against that. But if we are done for the day with our regular lessons, perhaps I should also use this time to ensure that Wayne has understood everything that is necessary."

"Mm. That sounds like a fine idea," said Lord Odozeir, although he didn't sound particularly enthusiastic. "Yes, you should do so. They must be equals, after all. Gibby, come."

Lord Odozeir took Gibby off to a different room while Lord Dracula stayed with Wayne. They had been studying some of the theory behind a certain gesture that could drain the energy from an enemy, but instead of pulling out more books or the screen, Lord Dracula used the time to let Wayne practice the gesture for real on a partially animated dummy. That was much more Wayne's style. He had a great time siphoning off the dummy's flesh with every flourish, but he couldn't help noticing that Lord Dracula kept glancing to the door and fidgeting with the hilt of his sword-cane.

"Uh, hey, Lord Dracula - is something wrong?" Wayne asked at last, when Lord Dracula didn't seem to have noticed any of his last five successful gestures. "Is it about the extra lessons? I thought Lord Odozeir liked Gibby now, so..." After all, why would he spend extra time with Gibby if he didn't?

Lord Dracula sighed, his long face even longer than usual. "Yes, Lord Odozeir does seem to be quite proud of Gibby's progress and invested in his success."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?"

"Perhaps..."

"Why wouldn't it be?" It didn't make sense from what Wayne knew; Gibby being good at learning and getting tutoring from Lord Odozeir couldn't be a bad thing. Could it? Or maybe Lord Odozeir was getting away with terrible things right under Wayne's nose. Bullying Gibby in secret like the snotty guard larvae, or something worse... He caught himself wrapping his arms around his stomach again like he hadn't done in weeks.

But Lord Dracula only sighed, still fidgeting with his sword-cane, and then said, "Would you care to practice your snapping a little more? Perhaps with a new weapon."

"Really? Yeah, I'd love to!"

"Well, let's see - we have yet to practice with firearms. These are a rare and ancient technology, little used now, but quite useful when properly equipped. We'll start with a small one, the pistol..."

Learning how to snap with the pistol was pretty different from the other weapons Wayne had practiced with, and working on it with Lord Dracula kept him distracted enough to quiet his guts' nervous rattling.

Once Lord Dracula was satisfied that Wayne understood how to use the pistol safely and had sent him off, he went searching through the palace and found Gibby studying in a room full of screens and books. Gibby didn't look flushed or narrow-mouthed like he would if Lord Odozeir had been tormenting him, but still. Maybe that much studying was bad for him? And Wayne knew just the thing to take his mind off screens for a little while. "Hey, Gibby! Lord Dracula showed me how to use a pistol. It's pretty neat, want to see?"

Gibby didn't even look up from the video he was scrolling through. "No."

"Oh, seriously? It's totally different from the usual kinds of things we snap with. I bet you'd like it. And I did really well with it, check what I can do!"

"I'm busy," Gibby said, eyes still fixed on the TV, "and you know I don't find fighting as all-consumingly fascinating as you do. It can wait."

"Didn't you study enough today already? You need a break, or you'll be as boring as all the other lords. It'll be good for you! And just for a few minutes, so you can see this cool trick I -"

"I'm going to be one of those lords soon. I'd say that's just a little more important than your new fork or whatever it is. I need to understand these concepts _perfectly_ , so stop trying to distract me."

"Fine," Wayne spat, "be that way! See if I ever show you anything new I learn again," and he stomped off to practice more on his own.

He'd kept his distance from the guard larvae after the pillar-climbing incident, but some of the mature guards who helped out with their lessons had taken a liking to him during their play-duels and were usually willing to help him practice outside of lessons, too. He snuck down to the guards' room near the front gates of the palace and ran into one he recognized, Pingremul. When he told them he'd learned how to snap with a pistol, they slapped him on the shoulder and said, "Well-done, lad! That's a tricky one to master. Half of us never bother, I'd say, with so few to go around. I've a bit of time before my shift - why don't you show me what you've got?"

Pingremul's shift didn't start till it was almost time for dinner, and Wayne was hungry enough to start heading directly for the room where they normally ate before remembering Gibby. He'd caught Gibby skipping out on lunches and breakfasts a couple of other times recently; better to make sure it didn't happen again, especially not while they were still growing. But when Wayne poked his head into the books-and-screens room, there Gibby was, still absorbed in his work.

All right, enough was enough. Time to act like a ruler. "Gibby, it's dinner time."

"I'm still busy. I'll have the kitchens bring me up something later."

"No! You have to stop and eat! This is way too much. You won't have any flesh left, _or_ any will. Besides," Wayne added, leaning on the table and giving Gibby a sad look, "it's lonely eating by myself..."

He thought that might convince Gibby to be more reasonable, or at least make him laugh, but Gibby just scowled at him. "Really? You'll be lonely - that's the best excuse you can come up with? I have more important things to do, Wayne. You need to stop being so clingy. It's disgusting. We're already together half the time. Why isn't that enough for you?"

The harshness in Gibby's voice hit Wayne like a snap, and he stepped back from the table. "I just meant - I know it's important, but so is eating. And I like being around you," which was too weak for what he really meant, but he was afraid to say more. That he felt safer around Gibby, that he felt better when he could see that Gibby was okay and nothing had happened to him, that he needed Gibby - he didn't want to admit to any of that right after Gibby called him clingy. "Sorry. I - I'll try not to be like that."

Gibby rubbed his brows with one hand and sighed. "Don't be sorry, idiot. And fine. You're right, I should eat. But you do need to be more independent. Even as rulers, we won't be together all of the time, so you'll have to get used to being on your own more."

"All right," Wayne said.

"And stop giving me that pitiful look, would you? Just another minute to finish my notes, then we can go."

Their dinner was delicious and plentiful as ever, but yet again, Gibby didn't eat as much of it as he should have. All he did was pick at bits and pieces of the various dishes. Wayne stuffed himself like usual, but none of the food filled the shivery emptiness that had sunk into him when Gibby snapped. What if he wasn't good enough to co-rule the Moon? Too clingy, too stupid, too violent, too nervous... Even after Gibby helped him push their beds together to sleep and dozed off with one slender arm across Wayne's shoulders, Wayne lay awake for ages, the words echoing in his head.

When Wayne eventually woke up and rubbed the sand out of his eyes, Gibby was already gone.

* * *

The lessons became more frequent and intense, but Wayne was enjoying them less and less under the unspoken pressure to hurry, hurry, hurry. Even the fun ones came with heaps of sighs and meaningful glances between Lord Odozeir and Lord Dracula every time one of them made a mistake or forgot an answer. On top of that, they grew more complicated and hard to understand. But that and the pressure weren't the only problems; every time one of the lords mentioned anything about "When you are a ruler" or "as a lord, you must," his stomach would start shaking and rattling. Worse, sometimes it would spread until he didn't know how the lords could fail to notice it, although Gibby always did and would tap the back of Wayne's hand or his shoulder to steady him. Once in a while, he tried to fish for more information about the previous King of the Moon from Lord Dracula or Lord Odozeir, figuring that it might help him feel better to know exactly what had gone so wrong. They always found ways to dance around it.

"Once, there was a single King of the Moon," Lord Odozeir always said first. Then he'd launch into the same story he had told Wayne the first time, except even more boring. Never any new details, never anything to clarify what had happened to the King or why Wayne and Gibby had been chosen or whether Wayne was right to worry.

Lord Dracula was, if possible, even worse about it. He would spin his sword-cane in his gloved fingers and sigh, and then he might say something about the difficulty of the King's reign and how he hoped Gibby and Wayne would avoid the same pitfalls. Nothing more specific. Then he would tell Wayne to keep practicing his snapping or to study more, like Gibby, and bustle off to some important meeting or other. Those had multiplied, too, leaving Wayne struggling without Lord Dracula's extra help.

A hollow, bitter frustration grew in Wayne with every vague retelling and brush-off. He wanted - he needed to know more, and exactly how was he supposed to avoid the troubles the original King of the Moon had run into if he didn't know what they were? Being unstable might be one, from the way Lord Odozeir never left it out of his stories, and he felt pretty stable most of the time when he wasn't worried out of his head - but that couldn't be the whole truth.

Well, if the lords wouldn't help, there was only one place left to turn.

Gibby had never shown any curiosity about the King of the Moon in lessons, despite his usual hunger for more history and politics, and tended to roll his eyes whenever Wayne brought the subject up with the lords. He spent so much time studying and in his extra lessons with Lord Odozeir, though; maybe he had found out more just by accident. And it probably didn't have anything to do with feelings or food, so he wouldn't refuse to talk about it like the lords did.

Wayne's chance came after a shorter lesson about energy rationing in one of the Moon's juice-producing districts when Lord Odozeir said, "Unfortunately, we must end here. An unexpected meeting has been called that I must attend."

"And I must conduct a review of the guards; it has been far too long since the last, and they may have grown sloppy," said Lord Dracula. "Would the two of you like to accompany me and watch the review? The guards will be among your responsibilities soon enough, and a little practical experience may be more enjoyable than further studying."

Gibby shook his head. "I'm sure, but I'd like to take the extra time to continue reviewing the energy problem. There are a few discrepancies that I want to look at more closely."

"I understand," Lord Dracula said, his long ears drooping slightly. "And you, Wayne? Would you care to join me?"

Normally, Wayne would have jumped at the opportunity to get real practical experience and see his favorite guards. Plus maybe he could get one of those snotty guard larvae in trouble or scare them enough that he'd never have to worry about them again. This time, he had more important things on his mind. "Sorry, but I need to study up on this energy stuff, too. I don't think I totally got it all, but it sounds really important."

"I understand," Lord Dracula said again, his ears still hanging low. "I'll leave you to your own devices, then. Enjoy the rest of your day, and make sure to rest - too much work can weaken the flesh and sap your will."

As soon as he was gone, Gibby headed for the room where he liked to study the most, the one with all the books as well as screens, and Wayne tagged along after him, planning his attack.

"Are you actually going to study, for once?" Gibby asked once they reached the study room. "You certainly need to. Some of your questions today were embarrassing."

"Sort of..." Wayne followed Gibby inside and pulled a chair over to sit next to him at the big table Gibby usually worked at. "Actually, it's not the energy so much, but - have you noticed how weird the lords are about the King of the Moon?"

"Are they?"

"What, really? You notice all kinds of stuff and you didn't figure that out? They never want to talk about things he actually did or said or the kinds of problems he was dealing with, they just - slide around it. That's weird, right? Don't you think it's important for us to know about him?"

"No." Without looking away from the screen embedded in the table, Gibby reached for one of the books. "Why would it be? The King was a failure. Obviously, it's more important for us to concentrate on learning about what works than what doesn't."

Wayne persisted. "But it's strange that they won't say anything specific. Isn't it? And you'd think it would be helpful for us to know what the King might have done wrong, so we don't accidentally do it again. Anyway, you're always reading and watching stuff, so I was just wondering if maybe you'd learned anything that -"

"I said it's not important!" Gibby slammed the book down on the table and stood up, looming over Wayne. Had he gotten even taller since yesterday? "Can't you just drop it? We both need to work on this energy distribution problem."

"Yeah, man, I know, but -" Wayne was having a hard time finding the right words. Something about the way Gibby was standing over him was making it difficult to keep his focus. "It just seems like this is important, too. Like, it's a mystery, and mysteries are made to be solved, and, so, uh - we really should try to -"

Gibby grabbed him by one of his horns, and Wayne let out a startled yelp. Why did that feel - good?

"Listen to me," Gibby snarled, which somehow didn't make the good feeling go away. "Whatever you're wondering about the King, it's -" He stopped, probably because he realized the expression on Wayne's face wasn't exactly an intimidated or scared one. "Are you - enjoying this?"

"Uh," Wayne said, very intelligently. "I - yeah - yeah, kind of..." Nobody ever touched his head outside of the occasional head-to-head nap with Gibby, so he'd never thought about the horns being especially sensitive or anything. But the strength of Gibby's grip around his horn, combined with Gibby still looming over him - it thrilled him through and through, like the little lightning sparks when he and Gibby had played with their first gestures, but inside him. And hundreds of them all at once, not just one at a time.

A strange expression flew over Gibby's face, only to be replaced with a smile. "Well, well. You know, I've heard something of reactions like yours..." His grip tightened, and he ran his thumb along the inner curve of Wayne's head. The sparks multiplied; Wayne went half-limp in the chair, bending under Gibby's touch. "It's a natural response, apparently. There's something about feeling another's strength, especially somewhere that's vulnerable like your head or your fingers. Many people find it - exciting."

Wayne wasn't sure "exciting" was exactly the right word, but he didn't want Gibby to let go, either.

"I didn't realize it would be so enjoyable to do to someone else, though," Gibby said. "Interesting. Of course, if you want to stop -"

"No, no way!" Wayne said, all his worries about the King of the Moon dissolving in the face of experimenting with this new fun thing to do with Gibby. "Keep going - uh, please?"

"All right, if you're sure." Gibby straddled his legs and leaned close, then wrenched Wayne's head back, and Wayne gasped. "Do you like that, too?"

"Yeah - yeah, for sure..." It was hard to think, but Wayne managed to say, "What - what about you? Don't you want to try it?"

"Me? Hmm." Gibby appeared to think it over. Still keeping a firm hold on Wayne's horn, he put his other hand over Wayne's mouth. "Why don't you think of something yourself that I might enjoy?"

Thinking. Exactly what Wayne didn't want to do right then - but Gibby was wearing gloves, of course, like everyone did. As his fingers caressed Wayne's cheeks, Wayne had an absolutely amazing idea: he licked along the palm of Gibby's gloved hand.

Gibby went totally still.

Encouraged by Gibby's reaction, Wayne curled his tongue around one of Gibby's long fingers and pulled it into his mouth. That coaxed a moan out of Gibby, so Wayne had to be on the right track. He kept using his tongue to play with Gibby's finger and sucked on it. Gibby's grip on his horn loosened, and the sparking eased up enough for Wayne to make his next move and pull the glove off Gibby's hand entirely in a single smooth motion.

" _Fuck_ ," Gibby hissed, which startled a weird muffled snort out of Wayne. He hadn't thought Gibby even knew that word. Wayne had only picked it up from the guards, and Gibby mostly ignored them. "Wayne -" He tightened his hold on Wayne's horn again, squeezing it a crack away from too hard. Wayne jerked as the sparks bolted through him again.

Gibby curled his soft, bare fingers in Wayne's mouth. Wayne kept licking them, savoring every hint of texture and the strength tensed within them, but it didn't feel like enough. Something more - there had to be something more he could do...

He grazed the knuckles of Gibby's fingers with his teeth. Gibby gasped and yanked Wayne's head forward, and the sparks exploded all through him as he bucked up against Gibby before collapsing back, drained.

Gibby stayed draped over Wayne with his hands still hooked around Wayne's jaw and head, and Wayne basked in the warmth and solidity of his body. Gibby had been staying up late with his videos and texts half the time, and tended to stay on his own bed instead of sprawling out whenever he finally slept; having him close again was reassuring. "So - can we do this some more, sometime?" he asked hopefully.

"Hmm - maybe," Gibby said, idly stroking the nape of Wayne's neck. "As long as it's not too distracting."

Good enough for Wayne. He wrapped his arms around Gibby's back and tilted his head to fit more comfortably against Gibby's, then let himself doze off, serene and secure under Gibby's familiar weight.

* * *

Despite the increased pace of their lessons and the lords' near-constant supervision, Gibby and Wayne stole whatever chances they could to sneak off and keep experimenting with their discovery. Wayne was pretty sure he would have hated it if anyone else had tried to mess with his head or been so rough with him, but when it was Gibby shoving him to his knees or dragging him around by the horns - every time sparked a new and deeper sensation that drove everything else out of Wayne's head, letting him forget his fears. And for once, Gibby seemed to enjoy something physical as much as he did obscure gestural theory and the finer points of treaty law. Talking him into a round of rough-housing that invariably ended up with Wayne a mess of pliable clay under Gibby's touch, or Gibby gloveless and breathless, was both easy and infinitely more rewarding than another round of studying or fruitless investigation into the King of the Moon.

But when the fun was over, in the rare quiet moments between lecturing and videos and getting rushed around the palace to observe various rituals and traditions and etiquette, the hollowness crept back in.

Lord Odozeir was occupied with another of the endless council meetings and Gibby had buried himself in his study room, so Wayne was working on his snapping alone under Lord Dracula's distracted gaze. Not that Wayne was doing a lot better. His usual focus for snapping lessons kept draining out of him; half of his snaps missed the target dummy or brushed too lightly against it. Lord Dracula barely seemed to notice, which only irritated Wayne more. No answers, no Gibby, he couldn't even keep his teacher's attention - his next snap was so forceful the dummy cracked in half.

Lord Dracula started. "Wayne? It's rare for you to be so excessive with your snap," and he laid his sword-cane aside to repair the dummy with a gesture. "Is all well?"

"No! I mean - I don't know..." Part of him longed to admit it all - his fears, the sick rattling, the frustration - to Lord Dracula, who'd never been anything but kind to him and Gibby. But if he did - what if he told Lord Odozeir? What if it just proved that Wayne couldn't handle being a ruler, that he was right to be afraid? "It's just, you know - you and Lord Odozeir seem pretty stressed right now, and I guess maybe that's getting to me, some." It wasn't quite the truth, but maybe Lord Dracula would buy it.

"Ahh. Yes, I fear that you're right. It has been a busy time as we prepare you and Gibby for your duties." The room had no chairs, like usual, but Lord Dracula sat on the floor and motioned for Wayne to join him. "Perhaps we've been too focused on what we believe you must know, without thinking of your own needs and feelings. I can promise little, but if there's anything you wish to discuss now, please, feel free."

Wayne sat down with his legs crossed and considered his options. "Well..." His nervousness might be too much, and asking about the King of the Moon was basically a lost cause, but if he could get just one straight answer out of a lord, there was something from all the regular lessons that he'd never figured out. "Actually, I was wondering - I know it's come up a lot, but it's always really technical. What does the Hylemxylem do, exactly? It's part of the palace and it does something with will and energy, but I don't get how or what it's good for." And there was that thing Gibby had said, about people being fed to it - but maybe he had been making that up to scare the guard larvae.

Lord Dracula sighed. "Of that, I should not speak too freely - my own opinions on the matter are not the most popular. Lord Odozeir, for one, disagrees quite strongly. But to put it in the simplest terms, the Hylemxylem is a peculiar sort of organism first discovered by the Queen of the Waxing Quarter. Its body is physical, and the palace has grown around the shape of it, but its roots are not bound by flesh. They spread not only through the Moon but into the Earth, from whence they draw will."

"Wait, it draws _what_?" Wayne leaned forward, horrified. "It eats people's will?"

"Not precisely. It takes not the will itself, but elements of the mind that create will." Lord Dracula lifted one hand in a strange gesture, like he was swirling the air around his head. "And from those elements, it produces its own will and power and energy. Fed well enough, the Hylemxylem can support cities, even full kingdoms, here on the once-lifeless Moon, but at a steep cost. Those it feeds on lose all sense, speaking in nonsense, and if drained for long enough..." He shook his head. "They may not even be able to reach the afterlife."

"And - and everyone is just _okay_ with that? That we get all our energy from hurting the Earth?" Wayne's hands dug into his knees. "That's - there's gotta be another way! We have to stop it!" Gibby - Gibby had to know. Why hadn't he explained it for Wayne before? How could he just be fine with something so monstrous? That couldn't be right.

"So I've argued. Most of the lords consider it a necessary sacrifice to sustain the Moon, even though its power couldn't prevent the King from -" He stopped dead, but not soon enough.

"Prevent the King from what?" Wayne asked.

"I beg your pardon, Wayne. I shouldn't have spoken of him. About the Hylemxylem -"

"What happened to the King of the Moon?" All of his insides vibrated as the rattling fear fought to escape. "What did he need the Hylemxylem's power for? What _happened_?"

"I can speak of it no more," Lord Dracula said. "Not without the blessing of the council. If you have any other questions, I'll answer them, but on the matter of the King, I cannot."

"Fine. Fine!" Wayne got up, struggling to keep the shakiness in his limbs from showing. "If you won't - I'm going to talk to Gibby, we'll figure it out, we don't need you!"

"Wait - you shouldn't -"

He ran all the way to the study room and burst in on Gibby, who didn't look up from his stack of screens as he said, "I hope this is about something important."

"You know what the Hylemxylem does, don't you?"

"So you've finally puzzled that one out. I was wondering why you seemed so unbothered whenever it came up." Gibby tsked at the screen in front of him and switched it for another one.

"And you're not? You knew this whole time, and you're still just - do you even care?"

"Of course I care, Wayne. I care about the Moon."

"But the Earth - the Hylemyxlem's going to kill Earth if we don't stop it! And everyone on Earth!" Wayne clenched his hands to stop himself from shaking Gibby. "You can't really be okay with that just for - what, keeping the TVs on?"

Gibby kept scrolling through his video. "The Earth was half-dead before anyone ever settled on the Moon. It might as well serve some purpose in feeding the Hylemxylem. And you should certainly know by now that it's not just the TVs that it powers - or are you still working on that part?"

"What do you mean? What part - is it the King?" Wayne did grab Gibby's shoulder then and pull him out of his chair, ignoring Gibby's thinned mouth and narrowed eyes. "What does the Hylemxylem have to do with the King of the Moon? You know what happened after all?"

"You still worry about that? Oh, Wayne, Wayne, Wayne." Gibby smiled and covered Wayne's hand with his own, but his brows were still drawn. "I've told you again and again, it's not important. I know the truth about the Hylemxylem is upsetting, but I'll go through the videos with you again later and show you why it's so necessary. Once you understand properly, it won't seem so terrible. And we can have some fun first, to take your mind off it..." His hand slid up Wayne's arm and brushed along the lower curve of Wayne's head.

Wayne shied away. "Not - I don't want to do that right now, geez! I want you to tell me the truth! What happened to the King?"

"Really, Wayne. Isn't it obvious?" Gibby spread his arms. "We happened."

Wayne's breath vanished as if it had been snapped away.

"The King tore himself to pieces, and the lords made us from his clay."

Pain and panic cracked through Wayne like lightning. "We? How could we have -"

"Well, that may have been a bit of an overstatement. But it's essentially true. We were the King of the Full Moon, made from the unity of the Queens - until we weren't."

"But - how? But _why_?" He was shaking inside and out, half-baked memories flooding through him in a jumble of senselessly broken images.

"It was just as Lord Odozeir said. The King was unstable." Gibby reached out and seized Wayne's shoulders with both hands, yanking him close, then shoving him away. Pull and push, pull and push, pull and push, until a dizzied Wayne broke free from his grip and staggered back. "That's what it was like for us, all of the time. Light and dark, waxing and waning, sense and sentimentality, order and chaos, breath and body. Even the simplest decision became impossible. Every order contradicted itself, if we could control ourselves long enough to give orders at all. The lords of the Moon were in disarray, fighting with each other as they attempted to obey us, and that disarray spread further and further. Even drinking will from the Hylemxylem itself couldn't stabilize us. An intolerable situation - so I fixed it."

"Fixed - you ripped us apart!" _Methodically gouging out chunks of flesh, clawing fiery ribbons of skin and pain from cheeks, arms, stomach..._ He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep himself from shuddering to shards.

"Yes. And isn't it better this way? Isn't it easier?" Gibby caught Wayne again like they were going to dance, one of the fussy formal dances Lord Odozeir insisted they should learn: one hand on Wayne's waist, the other tangling fingers with his left hand. "I'm no longer held back by your sentiment and foolish attachments - at last, I can reign properly and ensure the Hylemxylem reaches its full potential, make use of its power. I alone will be the Lord of the Moon, not those squabbling idiots who can never agree on anything. As for you..."

His breath was warm against Wayne's face.

"Now you don't have to concern yourself with all those details that bore or trouble you. I'll make sure you still have a place here with me. Something that you'll enjoy more than ruling. Captain of the Guard, perhaps? Since you're always so eager to snap. Or my consort, perhaps. Wouldn't you like that?" He spun Wayne around and then back into his arms. "You can advise me sometimes, too, if it makes you happier. We could have children. They'll have to take after you, of course; I can't afford to have more than one of me. But lots of little Waynes running around, perhaps, to keep you busy... Yes, that seems like something you'd enjoy."

The possibilities skittered through Wayne's mind on a hundred pattering feet. No more endless dull meetings with no solutions where everything he suggested was wrong. No more rude, condescending guards - he'd be the one with the fancy uniform, ordering them around and keeping them in line. Little crescent faces looking up at him, looking up _to_ him, to play with and train and show all the fun secrets of the palace, and when they were all tired out he could tell them stories about - about -

About giving up. About letting things slide. About closing his eyes to everything Gibby had done and would do, just to bow to Gibby so he could stay at his side.

He twisted away from Gibby. "I can't," he said. "I can't just - we could have died! What if the lords hadn't tried to save us? You would have killed us trying to get yourself free, for no good reason! And what the Hylemxylem does to the Earth, to everyone there - I can't sit by, Gibby. I can't just let you keep doing it."

Gibby's hands hung in place, empty, before he let them fall to his side. "Disappointing." His voice was a disdainful echo of Lord Odozeir's. "I don't know why I thought you might understand, this time. Of course you're still too enmeshed in flesh to appreciate my plans, the scope of what I'm doing. You've always been so enamored of physicality. Of people who just don't matter."

"What do you mean, don't matter? How can you just say someone doesn't matter when you don't even know them?"

"When they don't matter, of course," Gibby said impatiently. "Honestly. I despair of you ever learning how things work if you still can't grasp the simplest truths. People who can't think, who just waste their time and will fretting over unimportant issues on a dying world - what good are such people, except as power for the Hylemxylem? By using them to support the Moon, at least they're serving some better purpose. And all things considered, I'd say I have a better grasp of the Earth's situation than you do."

"Maybe you do, but you don't get other things! You don't see what's good about people getting to live their lives, even if they're not perfect, or why it's important to eat, or - you don't get me. You don't even understand why I'm mad, do you?"

"You're upset because you don't understand. But you can, if you'll let me -"

"I understand fine. I just think you're wrong!"

Gibby frowned. "That's ridiculous. And of course I understand you. You were part of me."

"Not anymore. And you didn't _listen_ to me, or you wouldn't always be blowing me off and telling me not to care. I mean, all of this about us being the King - how long did you know? Did you always know and -" _Lie and lie and lie._ That he didn't remember, that he didn't know, that he needed Wayne for anything but a toy to play with. "How long? Even when we woke up, was that all just -"

"No!"

Wayne blinked. Even Gibby looked shocked by the immediacy of the denial; he crossed his arms across his chest, and his mouth clenched small and tight as if to keep anything else from bursting out of him. But the words escaped anyway, in a desperate rush. "I really didn't, at first - I didn't remember anything except pain and being alone, I didn't know who we were, anything at all. That wasn't a lie, I swear - I didn't know at first."

"Then when did you remember?"

But Gibby already had himself under control again. His pause before saying "Not until after we were learning to snap," was deliberate, calculated, and the words rang false.

Wayne thought of the way Gibby had flinched from him after the first time they'd been separated. Remembered his cautiousness - _What did you talk about?_ \- and the bitter laugh when Wayne had taken his hand. "Liar," he said helplessly.

"Believe what you want. Are you done with your little fit? Because I still have work to do, and so do you, if you're planning to be of any use."

"I already said I wasn't going to let you keep doing this! Maybe the other lords don't care about Earth, but Lord Dracula will back me up. If you're going to let the Hylemxylem keep going, I'll stop you."

Gibby laughed. "You think you can? How are you planning to stop me, precisely?"

"I'll -" Wayne raised his hands, wishing he had something, anything to snap with, then dropped them. Attacking Gibby was - that would be too much, but if he could just tire him out a little bit... "I'll make you tell the lords exactly what happened, they'll see they can't trust you and -"

"You are really adorable sometimes, Wayne," Gibby said, smiling again. "Thinking that I'd let you run to the lords and try to spoil my plans as easily as that."

"Wait - what are you going -"

"If only you weren't forcing me to do this. I will miss you, you know."

Gibby's hands wove a gesture Wayne had never seen, too swiftly to defend against. Black fire leaped from his fingers to sweep over Wayne in scorching waves, melting his flesh until the whole world dissolved in pain.

* * *

Wayne woke up on a sandy stone floor next to a wiggling, gasping fish.

"Haah - first time here, huh?" it said. "Don't worry. Everyone ends up here at least once or twice, haaah - it's not so bad, the afterlife."

"He killed me," Wayne said. "I didn't - I didn't even try to hurt him, and he killed me..." Just for standing up to him, for not rolling over to do what he wanted like every other time. For not being - what? The pliable idiot Gibby had thought he should be? Fuck that.

"Oh, hah - that's rough. You won't want to go back there, then. Looks like - haaah - you don't have any particular destinations you can go, though."

The Moon; their room, their two beds shoved together, _home_ \- but he couldn't. Not alone, not without getting stronger, or Gibby would kill him again or find a way to lock him up. That wouldn't help anything. "I want to go to Earth."

"Haah - hmm - think that can happen. Plenty of room on Earth, you don't necessarily need anywhere specific to pop up. But you'll have to talk to the big fish to clear it. Halfway - hah - halfway down the stairs to the water cooler, can't miss her."

"All right. Thanks."

It was just for now, he promised himself as he stood and started looking for the stairs. Just until he knew how to stop the Hylemxylem for good. And once he did... Fine, he didn't know what he'd do then. But one step at a time. That was the way to go. Keep moving, and figure it out as he went. It had worked before, hadn't it?

And then he could go back.


	4. Fallow

As Wayne stepped down from the spaceship and set foot on the Moon again, the change of gravity hit him: the weight of the Earth, lifted from his shoulders at last. But the very lightness of it burned like superheated air within him and drove him forward, over the white bridges that spanned dark deserts, past the beautifully ordered gardens with their sparkling blue pools and clean empty houses, and to the towering spires of the palace reaching to the star-pierced heavens.

Nothing had changed on the Moon. Why should it have changed? Gibby'd had all the power he ever needed and no one who would dare say no. Gibby had been able to do whatever he wanted, and what he'd wanted was to suck the will from everyone below and above to keep the Moon beautiful and himself powerful. Nobody on the Moon would care to stop him. They'd probably walked into the Hylemxylem's roots themselves.

The guards had changed, a little. Now, instead of the old round bowls, they wore helmets molded like stunted, ugly, half-broken crescents. A mockery of Wayne; the white heat within him lashed through the inchoate masses of them that gathered to stand in his way, and they crumpled to the ground in heaps like melted dummies.

It wasn't what he'd wanted. It had never been what he wanted: for the guards, for himself, for Gibby. But Gibby had never cared what Wayne wanted, not really, and so it was what Wayne had to do.

When they came to Lord Dracula's body broken before the stairs that led to the throne, he didn't hesitate.

* * *

Even with the lighter gravity of the Moon to aid them, they barely scrambled back to the ship and launched it in time to escape the explosion. One last awful gift from Gibby.

While his friends took care of each other's wounds from the battle, Wayne went to the big viewscreen at the ship's front. (Prow? Maybe that was only for the boat kind of ships. _You don't understand anything._ ) Most of the view was just darkness and stars, but at one corner of the screen, a little curve of blue-and-brown Earth was showing. If they were lucky, the ship might reach the Earth in time for them to help protect people from the Moon's debris smashing everything up.

They'd done it. They had saved the Earth. No matter what the explosion did, people would be able to come back and rebuild and live their lives, even the people of the Moon if they had enough will left to make it through the afterlife and join everyone else, without the Hylemxylem messing with them.

He'd just had to kill Gibby to do it.

"Hey, Wayne." Somsnosa had snuck up beside him. She'd been right at the front of the fight, snapping with all her might, and taken more than her fair share of damage, but it looked like Dedusmuln had gotten her patched up. "You okay?"

He hadn't talked about Gibby a lot whenever they'd been chilling together, but bits of the truth had always slipped out. Just enough for her to have a decent idea of what he was feeling - at least, if he'd had any idea what he was feeling himself. Whole or empty? Ashamed or proud? Together, with his friends, or alone?

Fiery rock streaked across the viewscreen, the first harbinger of the Moon's demise.

"I don't know," he said. "But I guess I'd rather not know with you guys than - you know. The alternative."

"Don't try to be so deep, man," she said, and she nudged his shoulder. "I'll keep the others busy, maybe see if there's anything stashed away we didn't find earlier. You take all the time you need. It's cool with us."

"Thanks," he said, which was nowhere near enough.

She smiled at him and went back to Pongorma and Dedusmuln so he could keep staring out the viewscreen, watching all the deadly shooting stars sailing home with them.

_I'm sorry about everything._

"Me, too," Wayne told the stars. "Me, too."

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta for cheerleading and help!


End file.
